


root system

by incognitajones



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Kidfic - Dangerous Character All Soft and Cuddly for Adopted Kid, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Tough Badass adores physically weaker character & would do anything for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/incognitajones
Summary: “I think you had the right idea earlier about needing a partner. If you married me, Mei would have someone else to protect her, no matter what happened.”
Relationships: Amos Burton/Praxidike Meng
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	root system

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venndaai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/gifts).



> Think of this as taking place during a nebulous post-season 4 timeline in which certain book 5 events either didn’t happen or were averted...
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It takes far less time than Prax would’ve expected to disentangle him and his daughter from an entire life on Ganymede. He gives notice at his job, tells the station housing agency their last date of occupancy, and lets Mei’s school and daycare know that she’s leaving—that’s it. 

Most of their belongings will have to stay here, because luggage is at a premium and it costs too much to ship anything. So the hardest part of leaving is convincing Mei that no, she really can’t take any more than what will fit in her backpack. (Thankfully she has a bigger one now, not the cheerful little pink one that still sometimes shows up in Prax’s nightmares.) Prax knows he’ll end up taking most of her clothes in his bag so that she can bring whatever toys she has her heart set on, but that’s fine. It’s not like he needs to dress business casual out at the Ring.

Actually, Prax has no idea what he ought to bring, which is just one of the many things making him nervous. When he’d asked Amos, the big man only shrugged and said “Useful stuff.” 

Prax concentrates on packing sturdy clothes for both of them: boots, ripstop jackets and recycled fleece pullovers. He has no idea if they’ll need VAC suits where they’re going, but he’s not about to travel through space again without one for Mei. In the end he buys one secondhand from a family whose kids used to race pinnaces, and even though they really shouldn't be too big, he chooses one that’s a little roomy so that Mei can grow a bit before he has to replace it.

Less than three weeks after deciding to leave Ganymede, Prax and Mei are on a barebones transport to Medina Station. He’s heard horror stories about these ships, but Naomi Nagata recommended this one; it’s run by a Belter family she knows, and they keep a close watch on the passengers.

The crew knows that he knows Naomi, and for the last meal before docking at Medina they invite him and Mei to eat with them. She enjoys the attention, and the food; Prax realizes he’s going to have to teach her not to accept second helpings from people until they know for certain their hosts can spare the rations.

“Better eatin once you get through the Ring and see a real planet, little one!” the engineer tells her, giving her another scoop of soba noodles and ground cricket meal. “Wait until you have a piece of the blue aguafruit they found growin on one a them planets. It makes your mouth tingle.”

Sounds familiar to Prax: some kind of organic chemical defense, likely poisonous to the local herbivores, but humans are just different enough to find it intriguing instead of painful. After all, there are hundreds of examples of similar Terran plants—chile peppers, for one, which animals avoid but humans decided were just the thing for a little extra flavour.

Mei says proudly, “My papa’s friend Amos is going to take us to _all_ the planets.”

“Amos Burton?” the pilot says, raising an eyebrow. “Really, now.”

“Yes,” Prax cuts in, feeling an obscure need to defend Amos, which is objectively ridiculous. “He’s my husband.”

The word feels strange in his mouth; it’s the first time he’s referred to Amos by that title in front of anyone else. But he keeps his gaze level and his shoulders relaxed, watching the pilot steadily. She looks away, and gets up to pour herself more coffee. 

Prax feels uneasy, and urges Mei to finish up, reminding her they have to make sure all their belongings are packed before they reach the station. As they get up to leave, the pilot takes him aside, detaining him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Seriously, you hitched to Amos Burton?”

Prax nods, short and tight. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“I didn’t want to mention this in front of the kid, but you know what he did to his last squeeze? Killed her when she got in his way, sasa ke.” 

Prax doesn’t look away. “You mean Chandra? Yes, Amos told me about it. She was working for the man who was trying to destroy the colony. I’d say that’s an acceptable reason for self-defence.”

Amos _hadn’t_ mentioned that they were sleeping together, but it doesn’t seem unbelievable. And frankly, Prax has always known that Amos would kill anyone or anything who got in his way. That’s the reason for this marriage, to keep Mei safe. 

“That’s not the worst thing he’s done, not by a longshot. I’ve heard stories…” The pilot shakes her head. “Do you really know what he is?”

“I know exactly who Amos is,” Prax spits at her. “And I trust him more than anyone else I know. More than anyone on this ship, for sure.” He shouldn't have said that, no matter how angry she made him, but at least they’ll be off it in a couple of hours.

The pilot shakes her head again and shrugs Belter-style, lifting her hands. “Your funeral, man.”

“And none of your business,” Prax says coldly.

An hour later, he and Mei are belted into their seats, listening to the thump and judder of the ship docking with their new home. Prax squeezes his daughter’s hand. He knows he did the right thing. It doesn’t matter what other people think. 

Prax might not understand quite how he wound up married to Amos Burton, he might be nervous about seeing the man again—but he doesn’t regret it.

*

“Hey, Prax.”

Prax hadn’t heard that rough voice in years, but it was still instantly recognizable. His head snapped up, and sure enough, Amos Burton was looking out from the low-resolution screen on the wall. He’d grown a thick beard that framed his lips, and there were a few more lines around his eyes, but the unreadable expression in them was the same, and his hair was buzzed just as short. 

A sudden call out of the blue from Amos was strange enough. Even stranger, Prax recognized the background as one of the kiosks in the station admin area. And yes, the blinking icon in the corner indicated a local call. 

Why was Amos on Ganymede? The last Prax had heard of the _Rocinante_ crew (he kept tabs on the ship in the newsfeed, because Mei was always interested in what the old friends who rescued her were up to) they were on their way out of the Ring after saving the day yet again, this time for a colony of Belters who’d settled on a world with something weird and creepy on it. If the _Roci_ was here… odds were good that something potentially dangerous was about to happen.

Mei looked up from her homework, probably thinking the same thing, so Prax tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice and sound casual when he responded. “Amos? What brings you by?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothin bad.” Amos cleared his throat. “After Holden’s latest adventure the _Roci_ needs some pretty major work. She’s in dry dock at Tycho and the crew is all on furlough, basically. I figured on heading to Earth, but thought I’d visit when I saw your name on the station registry—”

A new voice cut in, crisp and efficient. “Citizen Meng, this person claims to know you. Is that accurate? Will you vouch for his behaviour on the station during his stay?”

“What?” Prax repeated. This isn’t normal procedure; the only people station security usually asked someone to sponsor during their stay were criminals… oh. Right. Given what Amos has said about his past, it wasn’t surprising that he might have a few suspicious tags on his record.

Mei chose that moment to pipe up. “Amos is a hero! He’s saved a bunch of people. Haven’t you ever heard of the _Rocinante_?”

Out of sight from the camera lens, Prax put one hand up in a signal warning Mei to stop talking. He didn’t want her questioned or involved in this—but it was too late. The security officer was already asking, “Miss Meng, what do you know about Mister Burton?”

“He’s my dad’s best friend in the whole world,” she declared proudly. 

Prax closed his eyes for an instant, but when he opened them Amos’ face on the screen didn't look any different. In fact, he was actually—smiling? Maybe? It was hard to tell with Amos, who could make any expression either terrifying or completely unreadable. Especially through that beard.

The camera cut back to the security officer, still looking less than impressed. “Then I suppose I can release him into your custody.”

“Custody?” Amos repeated, sounding pleased to be offended. “Was I arrested? Because if so, officer, you forgot to tell me a few things, like what the charge was or what my rights—”

“Amos.” Prax didn’t want him baiting the officer into a fight. That wouldn’t end well, for the officer, and it would certainly result in Amos being ejected from the station. On a ship, if he were lucky. “It just means you’re going to stay with us while you’re here. We’ll come meet you in the third level commons, it’s the closest to where you are. See you in fifteen minutes?”

“Can’t wait.”

Mei waved into the camera and chirped, “See you soon!”

Amos did smile then, a surprisingly warm one, and waved back at her.

Once the camera light blinked off, Prax allowed himself to grimace and pinch his nose in frustration. Now he wouldn’t even have time to change his shirt before they had to leave. He didn’t allow himself to consider why he’d wanted to in the first place. 

After dinner, Prax brought out his only bottle of real alcohol, a brandy distilled from the fruit of the station’s single treasured plum tree. It was cloyingly sweet on the first sip, but left a burning trail down his throat.

They stayed up and talked long after Mei had fallen asleep slumped on the seating bench, her head lolling against Amos’ ribs and her toes poking Prax in the thigh. Amos had told plenty of stories about the _Roci_ ’s trips through the Ring, but Prax was sure they’d been edited for Mei’s sake. Knowing Holden and Amos, there must have been more shooting involved. 

“What’s it like out there? Really?” he asked, now that Mei was unconscious.

“It’s pretty wild. So many ships passing through it makes me surprised any are left inside the Belt, to be honest.” Amos nudged his empty glass across the low table, and Prax poured another measure of brandy into it. 

“The whole system’s going to be as empty as a bar after closing time in another fifty years. And places like this—” Amos gestured around the room with his glass— “are going first.” He looked almost sad, though it was just the way the dim light cast shadows on the planes of his face. “Inside a decade, Ganymede is gonna be a ghost town.”

“I know.” Prax had seen it—the population shrinking, the inhabited parts of the station contracting—and he worried about his daughter growing up here with fewer friends and fewer opportunities. He stared down at her small, vulnerable-looking bare feet resting against his leg. “I want to give Mei a better future. But where would we go?”

“Come out to the Ring,” Amos said, settling lower into the cushions of the bench. “They need botanists out there. Medina alone has got to have a few thousand hydroculture fields. Not to mention all those new planets, growing all kindsa weird stuff people want to study, find out if it’s poisonous or edible or useful in some other way… there’d be plenty for you to do.”

“Maybe. But she’s still so young, and there are so many dangers out there…” Prax gulped more brandy. “I have to keep her as safe as I can, and it’s harder when you’re on your own.”

“What about her mom?”

“Nicola’s settled in on Ceres. She doesn’t intend to leave.”

“You never thought about finding someone else?”

“Of course I have.” Prax stifled a laugh. Obviously Amos had no idea what dating as a single parent was like. “But it’s tough to find someone who wants you, let alone your kid.”

Amos didn’t take his eyes away from Prax as he leaned forward and set his empty glass down on the table, his knuckles brushing Prax’s thigh as he did so. He didn’t know what might have happened next if Mei hadn’t stirred between them, rubbing her eyes and looking up at him. “Daddy? Where’s Amos going to sleep?”

Blood rushed to Prax’s face. Only years of practice in answering the most ill-timed questions a child can ask allowed his voice to stay calm and bland. “We’ll figure it out, honey. Right now it’s time for you to go to bed.” 

When he bent down to pick up Mei, she clung to Amos’ arm instead. The panicked look on his face was worth the pang of near-jealousy Prax felt, even though he knew kids went through these stages in which they latched onto someone new and interesting—anyone but their parents. When Mei had started school, at first she didn’t want Prax to leave her behind in the morning, but by the second week she’d decided that her teacher Ms. Oloya was the coolest person in the world and kept pestering Prax to invite her for dinner.

“Do you mind taking her?” he asked Amos. 

He didn’t answer, just scooped Mei up into his arms and stood all in one motion. “Show me where.” 

Prax pointed at the door on the left, and moved ahead of Amos to open it. The tiny bed-cubicle behind it was plastered thick with layers of Mei’s artwork, scrawled on sheets of reusable micro-paper that she hadn’t erased yet. The tiny screen in one corner lit up, playing a loop of photos of Mei with various friends, all gap-toothed smiles. Prax tapped the screen to dim it as Amos awkwardly (but gently) set Mei down and disentangled his arms from beneath her. She stirred and snuffled, pushing her face into the mattress, but didn't open her eyes. 

“Good night, sweetheart,” Prax whispered, and kissed her on the forehead, pulling the blanket from where it lay wadded up at the foot of the bed and tucking it around her shoulders.

When he stood up, Amos was watching him with another one of those uninterpretable expressions on his face. Not for the first time, Prax burned with curiosity about the man’s childhood on Earth… but he knew better than to ask. 

The two of them backed out of the space and Prax sealed the door carefully. Only he could open it from this side; paranoia, maybe, but after Mei’s kidnapping it gave him peace of mind. Amos noted the combined retina and palm lock and nodded. “Smart.”

Which, paradoxically, made Prax even more certain that the security measure was over the top, even as part of him bloomed with pride at Amos’ approval. 

When they sat down again, Amos was so close that Prax could feel the warmth of his thigh along his own. He could smell the fire of the brandy on his breath when he said, “I think you had the right idea earlier about needing a partner. If you married me, Mei would have someone else to protect her, no matter what happened. Then you could come out to the Ring and not worry so much.”

Amos sounded sure and firm, as if what he was proposing—a _literal_ proposal, Prax didn’t know whether to laugh or not—hadn’t come out of absolutely nowhere. 

“How would we explain it to her?” He kept his voice low, though there was no possible way Mei could overhear this conversation, even if she were awake.

Amos frowned, and Prax almost imagined that he looked hurt. “She knows we’re friends. Would she be that surprised by it?”

“No, I mean she’s at the age where she thinks the only reason to get married is, you know—love.”

“Like I said, she knows we’re friends.” Amos’s voice had a rougher burr than usual, maybe from the brandy. “And I don't know if I can love anybody. Doesn’t mean I won’t do right by you. Both of you.”

“What would it do for you?” Prax dared to ask. 

“Me?” Amos’ smile was a millisecond long and barely there, but Prax was still pretty sure it happened. “I guess it makes an honest man out of me. Or at least a respectable one.”

“If I said yes…” Prax swallowed. “You wouldn’t have to be monogamous.” Prax can’t imagine expecting fidelity of Amos, even if he didn’t look like—that. “Just careful.”

“I’m always careful.” This shade of Amos’ smile had a little more deadly sharpness. “But no, I wouldn’t go around fucking other people unless we were a long way apart, and you were okay with it.”

Prax didn’t understand. He’d thought Amos meant a marriage mostly in name only, a long-distance relationship while Amos flew around being a space hero or merc for hire or whatever exactly it was that crew did to earn money. 

“Wouldn’t we be far apart? I mean, don’t you still want to stay with the _Rocinante_?”

Amos cleared his throat. “Well, the _Roci_ ’s spending more and more time out by the Ring escorting ships to and from. It’s pretty boring, honestly—you and Mei could even be on board for some of that kinda work. If we got asked to do somethin more dangerous, the two of you could stay on Medina.”

Amos wrapped one huge hand over Prax’s knee. “Either way, I’d do my best to keep you both safe. The _Roci_ ’s got a rep out there.”

“A rep for trouble,” Prax muttered.

“Oh, we already had that.” Amos laughed. “But out there we’re big shots now, got backing from Fred Johnson and all. Doesn’t hurt to have Chrissy owing us a few favours either.”

It seemed awfully reckless to even consider it. On the other hand, Mei had been taken from what he thought was one of the safest places for her and nearly died, just because someone evil randomly selected her. And Earth had almost been devastated by a targeted asteroid. There were no guarantees anywhere in the solar system, Prax had learned that. Maybe it was better to try and face the probability of danger head on, teach Mei to protect herself by any means. And there was no-one better than Amos to teach her that.

“Okay, then.” Prax felt as though he’d just stepped out on a spacewalk without a tether, at risk of being flung off and spun into the emptiness of the galaxy. “Let’s get married.”

*

And now he’s here, on Medina Station, about to reunite with his husband of three weeks who he’s never even kissed. 

Mei tugs at Prax’s hand, dragging him along. She’s strong enough now that when she pulls hard, his feet float away from the decking for an instant. “Slow down, honey,” he warns her, scanning the crowded common area for the unmistakable Earther silhouette of Amos: tall but bulky with it, a little heavy in his stride but not ungraceful. There he is—walking toward them with a hardshell case slung over his shoulder, _Burton_ stencilled on its side.

“Amos!” Mei shrieks and throws herself at him. He catches her easily, even though she’s a lot bigger than she was the last time he picked her up, and settles her on one hip without noticeable effort.

“Hey, man.” He extends his other hand and Prax does the same, expecting an Earther handclasp. Instead, Amos pulls him closer, into an actual hug, thumping him hard on the back and draping his arm over his shoulders with a reassuring weight. Amos is strong, of course Prax knew that, but he didn’t know how comforting it would be to be surrounded by that strength, just casually cradling him. 

They stay like that for another moment, Prax’s heartbeat accelerating, before Mei starts to squirm. Amos lets her slip to the ground and Prax pulls away, reluctantly.

“Let me show you your new home.”

Amos gives them a quick tour, showing them the highlights of the quadrant their pod is in. They sit down to have a drink in the main common area, and Mei is absorbed into a group of kids her age playing some complicated lo-grav game Prax doesn’t understand the rules of. He strains to keep sight of her, watching her dart through the crowd with an uncontrollable frown. 

“She'll be fine for a minute.” Amos puts his hand on Prax’s knee and the warm weight distracts him from his anxiety. “I got a question, though. You married me, but you never did say whether you want to have sex with me.”

Prax chokes on an indrawn breath. He does… but as always with Amos, it’s more complicated. “I thought you didn’t like to mix friendship and sex. And if I can only have one of those, I’d rather stay friends.”

Amos rubs his hand over his head, ruffling the short buzz cut of his hair. It might be the first nervous-looking gesture Prax has ever seen him make. “Well, I thought getting married would change things. Don’t married people usually have sex? I mean, unless there are some kinda rules I don’t know about—” Amos frowns, looking down at his hand on Prax’s knee, and Prax can see he’s wondering if he’s missed something that “normal” people understand once again. 

“Hey,” Prax says softly. “That's not why I married you, but if you want to, I'd like it. A lot.” He leans up and kisses Amos. His beard isn’t rough, as Prax half-expected; it’s soft until Prax’s fingers ruffle it up against the grain, and then he realizes he’s got a hand on Amos’ jaw and is pulling him deeper into the kiss... which is probably better left for a time with more privacy. He releases him slowly, watching Amos lick his lips.

“I do mean to take care of you.” Amos makes the simple promise sound as official as the documents they signed attesting to the fact that Praxidike Meng and Amos Burton were legally married and the joint parents of Mei Meng.

“I know you do.” Prax smiles. “That’s why we’re here.”


End file.
